


Adrenaline

by RavenGrey



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Porn Without Plot, Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:50:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenGrey/pseuds/RavenGrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a particularly exciting case, Sherlock gets John off against an alley wall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Adrenaline

**Author's Note:**

> This is just straight up porn. I have the nasty habit of having a lengthy introduction when I write and was trying to just jump straight into the porn. Hope it turned out alright.

            Sherlock’s hands bite hard into his hips and leave stinging lines scoured over his hip bones. Pinned against the alley way as he is, one hand digging hard into the concrete above his head where Sherlock has just pinned it, John is Sherlock’s mercy. Which seems to have gone missing. Sherlock’s teeth dig into John’s lips with a brutal force, breaking skin and leaving them swollen. Fiery lines are dragged up and over his ribcage, Sherlock’s nails the cause. John gasps good and loud when Sherlock teases his thumb over a nipple, pinching it roughly while taking John’s mouth deeply.

           John’s breath are coming good and hard, his chest heaving under Sherlock’s palm while he wriggles beneath him. Sherlock’s fingers bite into the skin of his wrist, unrelenting, and John is surprised by the interested twitch his cock gives, Sherlock’s thigh pressing soundly against his groin and parting his thighs obscenely. “When we get home,” Sherlock growls out, rocking his hips forward into John’s “I’m going to take you so deeply you’ll feel me inside of you for days.” Sherlock promises lowly, circling a hard nipple with his thumb while dragging his teeth over the line of John’s jaw.

           He moans loudly, face flushing. “Pinkie promise?” John asks cheekily, despite his current position. Sherlock huffs out a laugh and sinks his teeth into the skin of John’s throat. Sherlock drags his nails down John’s side once more before gripping his hip and grinding forward, pre-come smearing on the inside of trousers. “Pinkie promise.” Sherlock growls back, and, somehow, it sounds like a threat and John shudders delightedly.

           Impatiently, Sherlock grips John through his pants, fingers dragging roughly over John’s clothed length, squeezing the tip of him before stroking back down. John arches under the touch, head hitting the wall and his free hand burying itself in Sherlock’s sweat dampened hair and  _pulling._  Sherlock’s head jerks hard, the cords of his neck standing out due to the stretch. Sherlock chuckles, the sound quiet and dangerous, and shifts John’s leg so it drapes over his hip, pressing the full weight of his body into John’s smaller frame.

           Breathing becomes more difficult, arousal and the unrelenting press of Sherlock’s body driving the breath from John’s lungs. Sherlock laughs, the sound low, and undoes John’s belt, the fly of his pants following shortly after. “Quite the gentlemen, aren’t you?” John gasps out when Sherlock thrusts his hand down the front of John’s pants and underwear, his grip unrelenting. “But of course.” Sherlock answers teasingly, his voice gone ragged with arousal. Just as quickly he has his own aching cock free, having forgone the underwear. He presses his hips forward until their arousals brush, bottom lip caught between his teeth while he grips John’s hip with a grip like steel to keep still.

           Taking the both of them in hand, Sherlock sets up a fast pace, pre-come slicking his hand while he pumps the both of them. Neither lasts long, Sherlock due to the spectacular high of a good case and the hot press of John against him and John due to the fact that rough handling is, well, very much up his alley, Sherlock’s hand on him so much better than anything he’s ever felt. Sherlock looses it first, releasing himself with a long, loud moan that burns against John’s skin. Sherlock is shaking hard, eye locked with John while he pumps himself through the after shocks and John into finishing. John cums over Sherlock’s hand with a strained shout, bucking into the tight grip while gripping Sherlock’s hair hard enough to hurt. Sherlock’s grin is sly and dangerous, his eyes never once leaving John’s face as he loses himself in ecstasy. They’re both breathing hard, hot puffs of air against one another’s skin, hands clinging as the aftershocks fade and they’re left panting and sticky in an alleyway.

           John will have bruises come the morning, Sherlock’s shirt will never be the same, but that doesn’t stop them from hastily cleaning themselves up and racing home so Sherlock can live up to his promise.

 


End file.
